


Water Breaks and Lavender Skies

by verivery (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Fluff, M/M, Romance if you squint, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11555142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/verivery
Summary: The younger boy rests his head on top of Jisoo’s, watching as the other boy waves their hands around in the air, conducting a steady rhythm.





	Water Breaks and Lavender Skies

**Author's Note:**

> A fair bit of warning: I wrote this June 22 of last year, but I figured I might as well post it since it's been sitting in one of my Drive folders, collecting dust.

The sky reminds Jisoo of lavender as he saunters to the front sideline for their last water break of the day. His tanned skin is damp with sweat, and his shirt clings to him like plastic wrap, rubbing him uncomfortably as he bends down for his water jug. A gentle breeze picks up as he squats down to sit, and he tilts his head back to welcome the cool, closing his eyes shut and relishing in the moment. Though rehearsal is nearing its end, the summer sun is still fiercely beating down on their little parking lot - any relief, no matter how insubstantial, is better than nothing.

He whips his head forward when he feels something warm pressing against his leg, furrowing his brows in agitation before he realizes it’s only Hansol. The boy is leaning on him as he downs his water, and it reminds Jisoo of a puppy. He sighs and relaxes back on the ground, throwing an arm around his younger friend and resting his head on his shoulder. Hansol says nothing, and continues to drink and drink and drink, and Jisoo figures he probably skipped the previous break to work on rimshots.

“Don’t drink it too fast, you’ll make yourself sick,” the older boy chimes, the corners of his lips curling up in a cheeky grin. Hansol just shrugs in response, too occupied with finishing the entire jug to argue. Jisoo clicks his tongue, squeezing Hansol’s shoulder and shaking his head. “If you throw up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” A small laugh escapes him as Hansol rolls his eyes, waving off his friend as he sets his jug down beside him at last.

Jisoo hums a part of their show under his breath, reaching for one of Hansol’s calloused hands and lacing their fingers together. The younger boy rests his head on top of Jisoo’s, watching as the other boy waves their hands around in the air, conducting a steady rhythm. Jeonghan doesn’t so much as bat an eye as he leans in, calling for Jisoo’s attention. Both boys turn their head, and Jeonghan tucks his bangs behind his ear, unfazed, before asking about a section of their music.

Hansol is grateful that no one questions their skinship. He’s not even sure how it started. Jisoo latched onto him from the very beginning. He was quiet and awkward and didn’t know what to do with his hands. But Jisoo always had a place for them - snug in his. They’re inseparable, attached at the hip; if it were anyone else, Hansol would be a flustered mess.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as Seungcheol blows his whistle. His head perks up and the warmth at his side is lost. For a second, Hansol forgets what he’s supposed to be doing. Jisoo is standing still at attention, arms stiff at his side and hands balled in loose fists, and all he can think about is how he wishes there were still fingers intertwined with his. With a tiny “oh,” Hansol springs up to his feet, and it takes Jisoo an insane amount of self-control not to burst out laughing. He breathes out a snort instead, and Hansol twists his head to stick his tongue out at him, earning them both a “shut up!” from Jeonghan.

They’re ordered back to the field for a final run and dismissed, and a surge of kids begin to sprint back to their places. Hansol dips down to pick up his sticks, a delicate hand tousling his hair catching him off-guard. Jisoo is already feet away when Hansol rights himself again, patting down his bangs with a bright smile. He stops and turns to face his friend, pointing an accusing finger at the water jug by his feet. “Don’t throw up!” and Hansol is left speechless.

The punishment lap around the field for being slow is worth it.


End file.
